


It's never over

by kimabutch (CWoodP)



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: (re: Shoin's treatment of the kobolds), Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Missing Scene, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Panic Attacks, Trauma, vague spoilers for RQG 166
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:09:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26067010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CWoodP/pseuds/kimabutch
Summary: There’s a screw loose in the elemental containers, and Cel can't sleep. Neither can Sassraa.
Relationships: Celiquillithon "Cel" Sidebottom & Sassraa
Comments: 17
Kudos: 43





	It's never over

**Author's Note:**

> According to Bryn, Sassraa uses both they/them and she/her, so that's what I've used for them here! Also, this is set on the airship at some vague point before episode 166, but has minor spoilers for that episode. 
> 
> The title's from the song of the same name by Arcade Fire, which may or may not be my own personal OCD Song(TM). Thanks to Heather for beta-reading, Em and Hollie for the Reptile Facts, and Cato and Robin for the ship mechanics talk. 
> 
> Please read the tags for content warnings!

_There’s a screw loose in the elemental containers._

Well. Maybe. Probably not, Cel tells themself as they lie in their hammock, staring up at the ceiling. Almost certainly not. They’ve done maintenance on the containers every day for weeks now, and they’ve never forgotten to screw things back before. And they know that, because they always double-check. Or triple-check. Sometimes in the middle of the night. But —

_There’s a screw loose, and it’s going to kill everyone._

They can imagine it, the loose screw. Just a little loose, tightened a bit but not enough because they were going too fast like usual. Because they didn't care enough about the others to finish it properly. Just loose enough to rattle, for the elementals to notice, for the elementals to escape, for the lightning elemental to spread its currents through the ship’s core, frying the engine, as the ship itself, unsupported by the air elementals, would start to lurch downwards — 

_You’re going to kill everyone. Again._

Cel sits bolt upright in their hammock, their heart racing, their chest tight with fear, their limbs locked in place. They barely see what they’re doing as they pull their fur coat over their PJs, slip on shoes, open the door of the engine room, and step outside — their mind is filled with visions of death, past and future. In every hurried footstep along the airship’s corridors, they wonder if they can feel the ship moving unsteadily under their feet, a sign that something’s going wrong. They can’t tell, they _hate_ that they can’t tell, as smart as they are and they still don’t _know_.

And then they’re above deck and their hands are on the containers and they’re in its mechanisms and they’re checking the screws, all the screws, and everything’s fine and no one’s going to die and they’re collapsing on the floor in exhaustion, every muscle in their body suddenly relaxing with relief, their head light and woozy, the slightest bit of shame welling up in their chest because gods, it’s been so long since they let it get so bad over nothing —

“Can I help?” a voice in Draconic says, and Cel’s spaced out enough that they don’t register it as Sassraa’s until they’ve turned around. As they scramble to their feet, they see the kobold standing there, their own small fur coat wrapped around their body, looking up at them with worry written all over their face. “Is something wrong with the elementals?”

“I — uh — no!” Cel says, and slips on a grin. “I was just, y’know, checking on them? Making sure everything was, uh. Okay. It’s all okay.” 

Sassraa nods solemnly, looking at the floor with an unreadable expression, and suddenly all Cel's own worries are replaced with Sassraa’s. There’s someone else to help. 

“Are _you_ okay, little buddy?” Cel says, but Sassraa stands unmoving. “Buddy?” they say again, lowering themself on one knee so they’re at eye level and reaching out with a cautious hand. 

“Sorry for following you,” Sassraa says quietly before Cel touches them. “I couldn’t sleep, and I heard you, and…” Her voice trails off as she continues to look down, and Cel mentally kicks themself for forgetting that Sassraa always finds a spot near the engine room. 

“It’s okay!” Cel says. “You know, I was just going to go do maintenance on” — Cel runs through the options quickly in their head — “the rudder! D’you want to help me?” 

Cel spots a hint of a smile on Sassraa’s face as she nods again, and they let themself relax just a bit. “Right!” they say. “I have to go back to my room to get my tools, so we’ll stop at the kitchen on the way, okay?” 

* * *

The rudder control room is small, cramped with the addition of Sassraa, but nonetheless comforting. Cel knows every inch of this space, every bit of tubing or wiring running along the walls — knows exactly where each goes and what they do. They know them, can see them, know that everything’s working fine. The unnecessary maintenance complete, they sit cross-legged on the floor, their fur coat in a pile beside them, breathing deeply the sweet scent of oil that permeates the room, mixed with the reassuring smell of the green tea from the mug they clutch in both hands. With every breath, they feel the worry in their chest fading further into the familiar heavy numbness that comes after an anxiety attack. 

They’re conscious of Sassraa, though, sitting across from them only inches away, so Cel pushes down the stupor and keeps their smile. The kobold perked up as they did the maintenance but grew quiet again when they finished, and there’s something familiar in their expression as they look down at the mug they’re holding in one claw. Something scared. 

“So, you couldn’t sleep, little buddy?” Cel says, after a long silence. 

“Yeah,” Sassraa says, barely louder than a whisper. 

“Do you… wanna talk about it?” 

Sassraa stares into their tea silently. “Sometimes when I go to sleep,” Sassraa says, just as Cel’s starting to worry they pushed too far, “I worry that when I wake up, I’ll be… back there. At the… in the big room.” Cel doesn’t need to ask what room she’s talking about, knows that they’ll never be able to erase their own memories of tens of thousands of glowing eyes staring straight ahead. They reach out with one hand towards Sassraa’s empty claw, squeezing gently in comfort and encouragement. 

“And then I think I won’t really wake up,” Sassraa continues after a moment. “That I’ll just be… be like I was. I won’t be there anymore. Just… fog, and” — their voice hitches — “and fear, always fear. Always there, but you don’t even know what fear is anymore. And I can’t go back to that, I can’t…” Sassraa trails off again, their limbs locking up as if frozen in place by a spell, and Cel’s not sure if it’s the light that makes the kobold’s red scales seem paler than usual, washed out by fear. 

“Can I hug you?” Cel says, and as soon as Sassraa’s given a shallow nod, they lean forward, tenderly scooping her tiny body into their arms. Sassraa cuddles in close, burying her snout into the crook of their elbow, her tail wrapping tightly around their waist. Her body is cool and unnervingly still, but Cel can feel the quick beat of her heart against their chest. 

_They’re okay_ , Cel thinks, pushing down the nauseating reminder of how long the kobolds had been enslaved just miles from their home. It’s not the time for guilt. Sassraa’s here now, they’re alive, Cel can see them and help them and know they’re not hurting anyone, not right now. They stay curled up together for many minutes, until finally, Cel feels Sassraa’s tail loosen slightly as she relaxes. 

“I know it’s stupid,” Sassraa says quietly, their face still hidden in Cel’s arms. “We’re far away and I’m, I’m not going to, no one’s going to… but I just…”

“Oh buddy,” Cel says, rubbing Sassraa’s back gently. “It’s okay. Well, it’s not okay but — it’s not stupid, alright? I’m not going to let that happen to any of you again, I won’t let anyone — but, it’s like… you can’t stop the worry by calling it stupid. I don’t think worry’s like that.” Cel sighs, knowing the hypocrisy in their words; a moment later, they feel Sassraa, too, exhale deeply. They don’t want to burden her with their own problems, but maybe it’ll help her to know —

“You know,” Cel continues, “I got up cause I was worried, too. And I knew… I knew everything was okay, but… I still got up. And maybe I shouldn’t have, cause it makes it harder not to next time, but…” Sassraa pokes her head out and stares at Cel with what they think might be surprise, before resting her snout on their shoulder. 

“I know you don’t like sleeping where people can see, but if you ever can’t sleep, you can see me and” — Cel briefly considers offering them a sleeping potion, but no, that probably wouldn’t go well — “and you can see that I’m here, and you’re not going to… be hurt. And then I’ll know that you’re okay, too. And I won’t tell the others.”

Sassraa gives another sigh, more relaxed this time. “Thanks,” she says softly. She gives them another gentle squeeze with her tail and nuzzles further into Cel’s neck. Cel can feel warmth radiating through their own chest, melting away their anxious numbness. They smile slightly. A real one this time. 

“Thanks,” Cel says. Leaning back against the wall, their arms full of sleeping kobold, they let their eyes close. They don’t know that everything’s okay. But they know that Sassraa is, so long as they keep holding on. 

**Author's Note:**

> Me, looking at Cel: nice half-elf you have there. Shame if someone projected all their anxiety disorders onto them.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
